


In His Cups

by marchingjaybird



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Ferdinand Is Smart (But Also Kind Of a Himbo Still), First Kiss, Fluff, Hubert Is Gay, M/M, Pre-Time Skip, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 22:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchingjaybird/pseuds/marchingjaybird
Summary: “I am perfectly fine and able to comport myself with appropriate dignity,” he said.  Hubert might almost have been convinced had not Ferdinand immediately followed this statement by shuffling over to the bed and sitting down to tug his boots off.  “And even if I wasn’t fine, it isn’t your place to monitor me.  I’m Ferdinand von Aegir!”Ferdinand gets drunk at a party and Hubert intervenes, leading to some surprising confessions.





	In His Cups

**Author's Note:**

> God, I love these two idiots. This fic sprang from a conversation with my lovely wife ([@Niknarok](https://twitter.com/nicnarok)) who also beta'd for me. I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter if you want for more endless FE3H screeching: [@marchingjaybird](https://twitter.com/marchingjaybird)

The party, if it could be called such, was going well enough. The cooks at Garreg Mach had provided their typical excellent fare, most of it small bites that could be easily loaded onto a plate and daintily nibbled at while conversing. The wine flowed freely, as did the talk. Once or twice, spontaneous dancing broke out, aided by the small group of musicians who sat tucked away in the corner of the grounds and varied their songs between lively jigs and stately waltzes. Someone had enchanted the bushes to hold bright motes of light that glittered and twinkled like stars among the leaves, and more of the tiny lights floated through the air just above the heads of all but the tallest of attendees.

Hubert was one of those unlucky few and, instead of ducking and weaving among the irritating little fireflies, he had stationed himself to one side of the party, a wine glass held firmly in his hand. That suited him well enough, as he was not particularly fond of parties and he had only come because Lady Edelgard was attending. Her attention was wholly focused on their Professor, however, and as loathe as Hubert was to leave her side, he knew that the Professor would not allow any harm to befall her.

It was a cool evening. The sun was just settling over the wall of the monastery, its last fiery rays causing the sky to glow vividly, bright striations shading from an eye-searing orange to pale violet to blue-black. A few ragged wisps of cloud, stained pink by the setting sun, looked like streamers strewn across the heavens and, in the darker patches of sky, Hubert could see the first stars beginning to twinkle.

There was a slight commotion to his left and he pulled his eyes away from the sky to observe. It wasn’t likely to be anything interesting, but he never could discount the possibility that someone would do something worth watching, and so he allowed his attention to be drawn.

It was just Ferdinand, however, and Hubert’s lip curled very slightly. He found Ferdinand deeply irritating for a whole host of reasons, not least because Hubert had recently found himself rather looking forward to the future Prime Minister’s easy cheer over breakfast, his articulate questions during lectures, his relentless optimism and constant need to better himself. He was very nearly the antithesis of everything that Hubert was and, in spite of himself, Hubert found it fascinating.

It helped, of course, that ever since he could remember being attracted to anyone, Hubert had been attracted solely to men, and Ferdinand was a particularly fine example of a young man. Tall and proud and handsome, with that ridiculous hair that reminded Hubert of the sun, those bright eyes that always seemed to stare at him so frankly, that finely formed mouth that Hubert longed to crush beneath his own… yes, Ferdinand was everything he liked in a man, and it very much made Hubert wish he would just go away.

He had stumbled, which was what drew Hubert’s attention. It only took a moment to assess the situation, it was so comically stereotypical. Ferdinand had tripped on an unexpected hole or a tuft of grass or a small rock and he had splashed wine all down the front of one of the girls’ dresses. One of the Blue Lions ones, the tiny redhead. She stared in dismay at the ruined fabric while Ferdinand apologized profusely and one of the girl’s classmates tried to tug her away. The girl looked up at Ferdinand and smiled, assured him that it was quite all right, and hurried off with her friend to get changed. Ferdinand stood there a moment, staring stupidly after the two, and then downed what remained of the wine in his glass.

Hubert cursed under his breath. _Drunk!_

“Careless, feckless idiot,” he breathed, searching the party for Lady Edelgard. She was still with Byleth, the two women standing companionably close. They had been spending more and more time together recently, a development of which Hubert grudgingly approved. He had questioned the Professor’s qualifications when she’d first come to teach them, but the intervening months had proved his doubt unfounded. Lady Edelgard could do much worse than a warrior of Byleth’s stature, though her ties with the church were… problematic.

Satisfied that Edelgard hadn’t seen Ferdinand making an ass of himself, Hubert abandoned his quiet spot, weaving through the knots and clusters of merrymakers and depositing his own wineglass on a convenient table. Ferdinand hadn’t moved, though he had begun to turn in a slow circle, no doubt searching for more alcohol. Hubert took him firmly by the elbow and he yelped in surprise.

“_Oh_!” Ferdinand twisted to look up at him, shock giving way to bleary-eyed pleasure. “Oh, hello there, Hubert. I didn’t know you’d come to the party.”

“Of course I came,” Hubert said. He began to walk, propelling Ferdinand along slightly ahead of him. He kept his head bowed and his voice low, so that people might think that they were discussing some important matter. The faster he got Ferdinand locked away in his room, the better. What on earth had possessed him to behave so irresponsibly?

“Mm, yes, I suppose it would be _scandalous_ for Edelgard to go anywhere without her shadow, wouldn’t it?” Ferdinand teased. “Where are we going?”

“To your room,” Hubert answered. “To sober you up.” They were well away from the party by now, so no one saw Ferdinand stumble and try to turn back, nor did they hear his yelp of pain as Hubert squeezed his elbow hard and hauled him along.

“Ow!” he whined, swatting at Hubert ineffectually. “I’m not drunk, how dare you!”

He didn’t struggle much, either because he was too drunk to summon the energy or because he was afraid of making a scene. Ferdinand placed entirely too much value on his noble status, a fact which Hubert had rather counted on in removing him from the party. He was taller than Ferdinand but not nearly as strong; he could feel the steely tightness of Ferdinand’s upper arm between his long fingers and his traitor mind wondered how it would feel to circle the entire bicep, to push Ferdinand against a wall and hold him there while he kissed the very air from his lungs.

“You _are_ drunk,” Hubert said, his voice severe and disapproving. Ferdinand’s door was unlocked and he hustled his classmate inside, slamming it shut and locking it behind them. Ferdinand stumbled a little as Hubert released him, then found his footing and turned to face Hubert, a petulant frown on his handsome face.

“I am perfectly fine and able to comport myself with appropriate dignity,” he said. Hubert might almost have been convinced had not Ferdinand immediately followed this statement by shuffling over to the bed and sitting down to tug his boots off. “And even if I wasn’t fine, it isn’t your place to monitor me. I’m Ferdinand von Aegir!”

“Hmm,” Hubert replied, not really listening. There was a bowl and pitcher, recently refreshed by a chambermaid, and he poured some of the cool water into the bowl. “Come here and wash your face.”

“No!” Ferdinand folded his arms stubbornly and Hubert’s jaw tightened. 

“Why don’t you like me, Hubert?”

The question caught Hubert rather off guard and he turned to stare at Ferdinand with frank astonishment. The young duke sat on the edge of his bed, arms folded belligerently across his chest, his party finery wrinkling in a way that ordinarily would have sent him into paroxysms. His jaw jutted and his gaze, still unsteady from the alcohol, was nevertheless direct and penetrating. Hubert fumbled for an answer, his lips thinning as he crossed the room.

“I find you deeply irritating,” he said, gripping Ferdinand by the elbow again and hauling him up off of the mattress. “You are arrogant and silly and you believe yourself to be on the same level as Lady Edelgard. Get that coat off.”

“Stop that!” Ferdinand put up a token struggle as Hubert stripped him out of his jacket and shirt, leaving him bare to the waist. The skin of his torso was a little paler than his face, though it had the same luminously healthy glow, and the muscles of his chest and arms were well defined beneath it. The swoop of his collarbones was particularly enchanting and Hubert devoured the sight of them, imagined how they would feel beneath his lips.

“Wash your face,” Hubert ordered, pointing at the bowl, and Ferdinand sullenly did as he was told, splashing around more than was necessary under Hubert’s disapproving eye.

“I don’t think that’s any reason to dislike someone,” Ferdinand said, his voice muffled by the towel that Hubert handed him to dry off. He seemed slightly more steady on his feet now, but his words still slurred and blurred around the edges. Hubert poured him a glass of water, which Ferdinand accepted with a grimace.

“I cannot dislike you because I find your personally grating?” Hubert asked. A look of true hurt flashed across Ferdinand’s features, gone so quickly that Hubert thought he may have imagined it. Would he even have seen it had Ferdinand not been drunk?

“You’re very unkind,” Ferdinand groused, flopping into the chair beside his desk. “And I am not arrogant.”

“Is that why you go around announcing yourself to everyone, as though anyone cares who your father is?” Hubert busied himself cleaning up the mess that Ferdinand had made by the pitcher, unable to stop the cruel words from falling from his lips. Better to be cruel, he thought, than to tell Ferdinand his real reasons for keeping him at arms’ length. While it wasn’t unheard of for men to take other men as their lovers, it was not seemly for two heirs to important families to take up with one another instead of with suitable wives. Hubert had already resigned himself to that and, when it came to it, he would perform his husbandly duties as expected and take lovers of his preferred gender discreetly and fleetingly, as was proper.

“My father,” Ferdinand said, with the sort of dignity only possible among the very righteous and the very drunk, “is a scoundrel. So I try to do things befitting my noble standing and I make sure that everyone around me knows who I am so perhaps they will associate the name von Aegir with me and not him.”

Hubert hung the towel back up and crossed the room, taking the glass of water from Ferdinand’s wavering grip and setting it on the table beside the bed. “Very noble of you,” he murmured, as Ferdinand draped himself across the back of the chair and stared at Hubert with narrowed eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, a touch of asperity in his voice. “I do strive to be the best sort of noble one can be. It’s very important to me.”

“Are you going to throw up?” Hubert asked, eyeing Ferdinand suspiciously. There was a new unsteadiness about him, a sort of maudlin air, that could have heralded anything from illness to a fit of tears.

“Of course not,” Ferdinand replied, standing with rather a good deal of effort. “I’m fine. I’m going back to the party.”

Hubert caught him by the arm as he passed, swung him back towards the bed and tumbled him into it. “You certainly are not,” he said, crouching to tug off Ferdinand’s boots. They were finely made of gleaming black leather, well polished and well used. “You’re going to stay here and drink this entire glass of water and then you’re going to bed.”

“Yes, Mother,” Ferdinand mocked, but he didn’t try to rise. Hubert hesitated a moment before unfastening Ferdinand’s trousers and pulling them off. This was a bit too intimate, but he tried to remind himself that back home in the Empire, Ferdinand surely had a valet that helped him dress and undress; indeed, he seemed wholly unconcerned that Hubert was stripping his clothes off, even obligingly lifting his well muscled legs so that Hubert could more easily get the pants off of him. The sight of it shook Hubert more than a little (it was something he had imagined so often, and now here Ferdinand was, laid out in front of him) and he turned away quickly.

“I do enjoy your sense of humor,” Hubert said dryly, to cover up his embarrassment.

“Really?” Ferdinand propped himself up on one elbow and flashed a dazzling smile at Hubert.

“No,” Hubert answered, folding the trousers and setting them neatly on the pile with Ferdinand’s jacket and shirt. Ferdinand pouted and flopped back against the mattress. After a moment, he made a strange, alarming noise in his throat, and Hubert stared narrowly at him. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No!” He propped himself up on his elbows and regarded Hubert with a sorrowful expression that made Hubert feel obscurely guilty. “Do you really find me so awful?” There was a plaintive note in his voice, as though he was wobbling just on the edge of tears, and Hubert sighed.

“You aren’t awful,” he said slowly. “We just have very different ways of thinking, that’s all.” As he spoke, he lifted the basin of water and carried it over to the window, tipping it out into the little flower bed that grew beneath. “Your attitude towards Lady Edelgard irritates me, and I sometimes find it difficult to deal with your infernal optimism. But you are very conscientious, intelligent, and honorable and I admire that about you.”

It had cost him somewhat to admit that he didn’t find Ferdinand entirely unpleasant, but it was worth it to see the smile that slowly bloomed on Ferdinand’s face. It changed his countenance entirely, as when the sun crests the horizon in the morning and bathes the world in golden light. Hubert’s cheeks colored slightly and he hid his face by bending down and placing the bowl next to the bed. He didn’t trust that Ferdinand wouldn’t get sick, and this way at least if it happened suddenly no one would have to clean the floors.

“That’s very kind,” Ferdinand murmured, and there was a new warmth to his voice that made Hubert look up. Ferdinand had managed to sit up and was perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes shining, his lips parted in a brilliant smile. “I have always admired you, too, Hubert.”

Hubert gave a short, sharp bark of laughter that surprised Ferdinand. He jumped a little and shrank back, his smile fading into an expression of confused melancholy once again. Hubert tried to suppress his own bitterness and was only marginally successful; a little of it crept into his voice, and he turned his back on Ferdinand so that he didn’t have to look at the wide-eyed hurt on his face.

“You don’t have to say that,” Hubert said. “I know you find me distasteful.”

“Not at all!” There was a scuffle behind him and then a hand seized his arm and spun him around and Hubert found himself entirely too close to Ferdinand, who was gazing up at him, his smile restored to its previous brilliance. “Sometimes I wish I could be more like you, actually! Perhaps not entirely, you can be a trifle underhanded and you are a bit cruel and your ruthlessness frightens me a bit…”

Ferdinand trailed off, puzzled, and Hubert sighed. A tiny, treacherous part of him had been hoping that Ferdinand would say something sweet, but there was not much about him that qualified as sweet. Gently, he peeled Ferdinand’s fingers away from his arm and guided him back to the bed.

“That didn’t come out entirely the way I wanted it to,” Ferdinand confessed, frowning.

“Yes, that does seem to be a problem for you,” Hubert said. “Finish your water.” Ferdinand dutifully picked up the glass and drank it all down, grimacing as he finished. Hubert immediately poured him some more and handed it back with an arched brow. “And again.”

“I do like you,” Ferdinand said, peering pensively into the water. “In spite of the fact that we argue, I do admire you. You do things for the Empire that I could never do.” Hubert smiled humorlessly.

“Mm, yes,” he said. “I do all of the wicked, underhanded things so that you don’t have to get those pretty hands dirty.”

“That isn’t what I meant!” Ferdinand protested. There was something plaintive in his voice, a note of real frustration that made Hubert swallow down all of the mocking things he’d been contemplating saying.

“Perhaps,” he said instead, “you ought to stop trying to express yourself when you’re so drunk. I’m sure you can wait and tell me all about your admiration for me when you’re sober.”

“I won’t be brave enough when I’m sober,” Ferdinand said, the glass of water cupped between his hands. He stared resolutely at the ripples there and Hubert sighed.

“I’m not a monster, Ferdinand,” he said.

“I know!” Ferdinand chewed his lips, took a sip of water, shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “It isn’t that. It’s just…” He trailed off, shrugged, took another sip of water.

Hubert sighed and glanced at the door. He ought to be getting back to the party, ought to be down there with Lady Edelgard. What if someone else had monopolized the Professor’s time? What if Edelgard was down there alone, wondering where on earth Hubert had gotten to? Ferdinand smiled at him and flapped a hand at the door.

“Go on,” he said. “It’s fine, you can go back to the party, I know how much you _love_ small talk.” He covered his mouth, a giggle bubbling up in his throat. It was a sweet sound, and a surprising one, so different from Ferdinand’s usual demeanor. Hubert had never wanted to push him down and kiss him more.

But he did have a duty, and so he nodded shortly. “Very well. If you do need to throw up, the basin is there,” he said. Ferdinand made a face.

“I’m not going to throw up,” he insisted. Hubert shrugged and turned to leave; his hand was on the door knob when Ferdinand spoke again. His voice was quiet, as though he was afraid of the words leaving his mouth. “I’m sorry, I feel as though I should be able to tell you how I feel about you, but I can’t seem to get the words out. They frightened me less when I thought you despised me.”

“Frightened you?” Hubert’s mouth was dry as a desert, his heart fluttering like a trapped bird in his chest. The door knob felt as cold as ice beneath his fingers. “Why should they frighten you?”

“It’s much easier to admit that you find a man very attractive when you think that it could never happen,” Ferdinand said wistfully. Hubert whirled to face him, his hand spasming so hard on the door knob that he swore he would be able to see the impressions of his fingers in the metal. A look of abject horror crossed Ferdinand’s face and he clapped his hands over his mouth.

He began to mumble apologies, somewhat hampered by how tightly he’d pressed his fingers against his lips but Hubert didn’t hear them. He crossed the room in two quick strides and grabbed Ferdinand’s wrists, tugging at his hands until he dropped them into his lap. His eyes were wide with misery and he opened his mouth to apologize again but before he could even begin to form the words, Hubert cupped his face and pulled him close into a kiss.

It was a messy, awkward kiss. Ferdinand continued to attempt to talk for a moment, his alcohol-soaked mind well behind actual events, so that Hubert mostly found himself kissing teeth and air. When he pulled back, frowning, searching for a better angle, Ferdinand stared up at him in open astonishment.

“Was that a _kiss_?” he demanded. “Hubert, did you just _kiss_ me?”

“Almost,” Hubert growled. “I’ll do it again properly if you’ll just shut up and cooperate.”

Immediately, Ferdinand shut his mouth and tilted his head back. His golden brown eyes were wide and brimming with joy, his full lips were stained red from wine and parted ever so slightly as Hubert bent close again. He hesitated a moment, a dark thrill running up his spine when the breath hitched in Ferdinand’s throat, and then their lips met again, a soft slide of skin on skin, the briefest flash of Hubert’s tongue. And again, this time harder, Hubert’s tongue pushing into the warm wetness of Ferdinand’s mouth, his hands slipping up to thread through Ferdinand’s silky hair. Ferdinand gasped, moaned, reached up to wind his arms around Hubert’s neck and pull him down onto the mattress. He landed on top of Ferdinand, his thigh pressing between Ferdinand’s spread legs, and Hubert could feel the first stirrings of his arousal. For a moment, he shuddered with indecision, his face on fire as Ferdinand slowly ground his hips up, his rapidly hardening cock pressing tight against Hubert’s thigh.

“Stop,” Hubert gasped, pulling away from their embrace. A look of wounded rejection flashed across Ferdinand’s face, and Hubert turned away as he stood to straighten his clothes. He couldn’t look at Ferdinand right now, not when he had that kicked puppy look on his face. Not when his lips were slick and swollen from kissing.

“Hubert…”

“Stop,” Hubert said again, holding up a hand. He braced himself, took a deep breath, and turned back to Ferdinand. “Not right now. You’re drunk and I want you to be totally sober if and when we…” And he trailed off, embarrassed, but Ferdinand understood what he was trying to say and lit up like the sun, his pleading frown replaced by an adoring smile.

“What a gentleman,” he cooed, hands clasped in front of him. “Hubert, you care about my honor!”

“I do not,” Hubert said stiffly. “Not in the least.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to admit it,” Ferdinand said, sighing dreamily. He collapsed onto the bed, eyes glued to Hubert as he crossed back to the door. “I’ll always know.”

“Good evening, Ferdinand,” Hubert said. He hesitated, then added in a low voice, “I would like it if we could have breakfast together tomorrow. And then perhaps go for a walk before class begins.” He sounded so ridiculously old fashioned that he almost slapped himself, but Ferdinand cooed happily again and Hubert had to duck and turn his head away to hide his smile.

“That sounds very romantic,” Ferdinand said. His words were beginning to blur around the edges and Hubert risked a glance at him. He was sprawled on the bed, his eyes half closed now; evidently the soft lure of the pillow beneath his head was too powerful to resist. Hubert longed to go back to him, to brush that soft, bright hair back from his forehead, to curl up behind him and hold him close. But Ferdinand was drunk - not so much so that Hubert worried that he would do something that he would not ordinarily consider, but drunk enough that his inhibitions were low and he might eagerly do something tonight that he would regret in the morning.

“We’ll see how you feel about it with a hangover,” Hubert answered dryly.

“I’m sure it will still be the highlight of my month,” Ferdinand sighed, his eyes now more closed than open. “Perhaps even of my year.”

“Good evening, Ferdinand,” Hubert said, the warmth in his voice surprising even himself.

“Good evening, Hubert,” Ferdinand replied, well on his way to slumber. Hubert stood a moment and watched him until his breathing evened out. He would have a wicked headache in the morning, but Hubert intended to be outside his door with a pot of willow bark tea and a bag of peppermints.

***

Back at the party, he immediately stationed himself at Lady Edelgard’s left shoulder, looming over her like a great black vulture. She glanced up at him, studied his face for a long moment, then turned away, the ghost of a smile touching her lips.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Ferdinand was inebriated,” Hubert answered. “I took him to his room and put him in bed.”

“Very thoughtful,” Edelgard murmured, nodding slightly to Manuela as she swanned past, a glass of wine firmly in hand.

“I didn’t want him to embarrass you,” Hubert said. “Or himself.” Edelgard turned, her pale eyes searching his face. He met her gaze steadily for a long moment, and then she laughed and sipped her wine and turned away.

“Commendable as always, Hubert,” she said. “Just try not to break his heart.”

“You’re very perceptive, Lady Edelgard,” he answered, bowing slightly at the waist. “I assure you, I will treat him very well.”

“Treat him as well as you would treat me and I’m sure the two of you will be very happy,” Edelgard said, and relief washed through him like a cold, cleansing rain. He had been so surprised by Ferdinand that it had not occurred to him that Edelgard might disapprove.

“It shall be as you say, Your Majesty,” he agreed. She studied him for a moment, then smiled and turned back to the party, and he followed her, wraithlike, already counting down the hours until he could be back in Ferdinand’s presence.


End file.
